FourPointed Star
by Margot the Mad American Muggle
Summary: New chapter up! Hermione suggests they go into town, where they meet an old friend...... some non-canon stuff. :)
1. Lessons and Autonomous Quaffles

There we go, that's much better. Disclaimer: Hey, guess what! What? I don't own it. Don't own what? Anything 'cept Holly, Samantha, Eloise, and generic villagers. Avienne belongs to a friend of mine, as does Severus Jr. and I'm just borrowing those two from her. All the other stuff is J. K. Rowling's. Oh, except The Legend of Zelda and all it's characters, places, species, items etc belong to Nintendo.  
  
"...And so they linked the four just so that any-and-all-forms-of-physical- and-emotional-distr-" The inventor of the class-dismissing bell ought to have received a Nobel Prize, in the opinion of several teenagers crowded in a rather un- extraordinary room in a rather uneventful class. In fact, the class was so boring that it had gained a certain notoriety among all who were forced to study it. It was, unfortunately, History of Magic, and the students presently being subjected to it were none other than the Gryffindor sixth- years. As 3 particular sixth-years ambled along slowly to their next class, they realized it would probably be a good idea to know where they were going... "Hey 'Mione," yawned Ron, "what've we got next?" Hermione blinked, looking rather anime. "We have lunch next, Ron." "We have ::yawn:: what?" "It's. lunch. time. Ron." "Oh, all right. I could do with a bit of lunch now anyway." Hermione smacked her forehead. "Harry, would you please baby-sit Ron while I run off to the library? Harry? Harry?" Harry wasn't listening to them, though. An odd carriage pulling up at the castle entrance had seized his attention instead. It was blatantly wooden and looked rather like someone had taken a little oak tree and blown it up like a balloon. ::Very good:: It stopped, and out of it climbed two young women, neither of whom appeared much older than the three of them; however, Hermione pulled Harry's attention back to the task at hand. "So Harry, you'll baby-sit him for me, won't you?" "Huh?" "See," Ron said, "I told you he wasn't listening." "Hermione, when did you say lunch was, again?" ::thud::  
  
Lunch that day was identifiable only as sushi. Why the kitchen staff would serve sushi was beyond everyone, but there you go. Harry looked around for the girls from the wooden carriage, hoping he could point them out to Hermione and Ron, but they were nowhere to be found. They did notice, however that Dumbledore's presence was lacking up at the staff table...  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to find it empty except for one girl Harry assumed was a Slytherin, judging by her green- and silver-accented robes, and a young woman who looked to be at least 19 or 20. The first girl-who looked quite familiar, now that Harry thought about it-snorted derisively when Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down nearby. The older girl sighed and continued reading from a fairly thick book. Slowly, other students filed in and took their seats, the Gryffindors congregating in the right-back corner of the room, the Slytherins congregating in the front-left. The Slytherin girl from before was growing steadily more resentful of the general cacophony and pulled out a book of her own, her medium brown hair falling in front of her face as her blue eyes took in every word on the pages her fair hands turned. She must have sensed Harry watching her, for she stiffened, turned around and fixed him with a murderous stare that also looked very familiar. Harry shook off an eerie feeling creeping up through his chest and looked around the room generally. Stragglers slowly managed to find themselves in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, most of them before the bell rang. Hermione looked around, assuming the professor would be entering any minute now from his or her office. There were wild rumors flying about this one. It seemed Snape himself had recommended the person, who had, at different points in time, been both an Auror and a bounty hunter. It also seemed that he had antlers and a silver horn poking out of the top of his head, in addition to being dyslexic every second Tuesday and Thursday. And those were some of the milder ones. After about 10 minutes waiting for the professor, Malfoy and company got malevolently bored. The usual round of insults was traded and the traditional banter escalated to a suitable pre-fisticuffs level before Dean Thomas shouted, "Oi! I think she's trying to take attendance." Slowly the students returned to their places and the disgruntled mumbling subsided. The Slytherin sixth-year rolled her eyes and returned to her reading. Harry looked up and was significantly surprised to see the young woman who had been reading when he first came in. She was up at the board, writing things in strange characters. Her hair was short-about shoulder- length-and feathered, and it was a shade or two darker than her skin, the color of brown sugar, only graded to a forest green-gold color at the tips. Harry found her appearance rather odd-after all, none of their other professors had multicolored, especially green, hair. Once Harry got over the strangeness of her appearance, however, he was promptly puzzled by the fact that she had just sat reading for ten minutes after the bell rang, especially with Malfoy fomenting discord the way he always did. He really hoped this professor at least knew what she was doing. Ron nudged Harry in the ribs. "Hey, isn't she the girl who was reading when we first came in?" "Looks like her, doesn't she..." "Quiet, class is starting," hissed Hermione. Ron grumbled a little but complied. Harry looked up at the board. There were three lines of writing; one Harry supposed must be an Asian language, another in characters made up of straight lines placed at right angles to one other, and the last in English: "Prof. Holly Ro." "My name," the woman said, pointing to what she'd written, "in Chinese, Hylian and English. I grew up in England, but my maternal grandmother was Chinese." Harry noticed for the first time her almond-shaped eyes-though they were midnight blue in color-and thought it made some sense. "So, now that you know my name, it's about time I learned yours...." Prof. Ro called the roll, which was unusually mundane, and Harry found himself hoping the curriculum would at least be a little more interesting. Once she got through calling the roll, Prof. Ro grinned and put away the binder containing the class roster. "Glad that's out of the way. Roll-call's never been my favorite part of anything. So, from what Prof. Dumbledore's told me, you're well versed in curses, Dark creatures, and all the nuances of the Gilderoy Lockhart books." A few of the guys snickered at the memories of that year. "But I take it you've never done Elements, have you?" The confused murmuring answered the question well enough. "Guess not, then." She smiled again. "So we start at the very beginning-defining an Element." Hermione's hand shot into the air. "Yes, Miss Granger?" "An element is one of the 109 types of atoms found on the periodic table," Hermione volunteered confidently. "Not that kind of 'element'. You're right, but you're talking about the wrong kind of 'element'. I'm talking about an 'El-e-ment,'" Prof. Ro replied, writing "Element" on the blackboard and underlining the capital 'E' three times for emphasis. A few people nodded, still having no idea what she was talking about. Prof. Ro sighed. "Get out your quills, you might want to copy this down..." Going to the blackboard, she drew a large circle, and inside, six smaller circles. Harry found himself slightly intrigued by this. What was she going to do, teach them about sines and cosines and the unit circle? Harry had heard Dudley complaining about it over the summer and thought sine graphs could probably confuse any Dark wizard to death, but figured Prof. Ro probably wasn't trying to teach them to confuse people to death. Harry copied the seven circles down in his notebook and looked back up at the blackboard. Prof. Ro had enchanted the circles so that they shone six different colors, from the top going clockwise-gold, scarlet, emerald, azure, honey and a vibrant fuchsia- violet. A unique symbol was in the center of each. "There are six elements-light, fire, forest, water, spirit and shadow. An Element is like a world in and of itself. There is a race of people, races of monsters and magical properties associated with each of them. I've had first hand experience with all of them, and I've met people from three of them. The Elements aren't quite so separated around here, but in Hyrule, there are distinct boundaries between most of the Elemental 'worlds'. "The most common Element is Light. The Hylians and most humanoids are associated somehow with this Element. There aren't really Light monsters, but there's a lot of Light magic-protection, healing, sealing, some farsight-and a lot of the ancient magic only ever done or heard about in legend is Light magic. Light magic tends to be very complicated, so we're not going to start the Light unit any time soon. If you want to learn about Hylians, take an anthropologically-oriented class." Most of the class looked like the only thing they'd gotten out of that oration was the question 'what the heck is anthropology?'. Harry looked around after copying all the important points down and was surprised to see Draco Malfoy raising his hand, sporting an unmistakable smirk. Prof. Ro called on him. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Malfoy's smirk widened. "Professor, what about Shadow?" "What about Shadow?" "Tell us about Shadow," he said, an intrigued note in his voice. "I don't know, you've only just been introduced to Elements, I don't think you're ready for Shadow yet. I intended to start with the Forest..." Unfortunately, the sixth-years, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, were already hooked on the idea. Finally, Prof. Ro gave in. "Alright," she said darkly, "don't say I didn't warn you." She sighed. "The Shadow world is the most enigmatic area of Hyrule, if only because few who enter it ever return alive. It's often referred to as the land of the dead, as all the monsters associated with it are undead, and the Sheikah, the Shadow People-called the shadows of the Hylians-are rumored to be the souls of dead Hylians given physical form. The Shadow Temple spoken of in the legends of Hyrule is said to be built from the blood and bones of Hyrule's evil dead. Like I said, it's not a good place to start learning about Elements." Harry could tell he was supposed to feel some shock or fear, because of the dark look in Prof. Ro's eyes. Many of the guys were on the edges of their seats, but Neville Longbottom was trembling and Hermione had gone very white with realization. It wasn't real for him though-and he couldn't fear something that wasn't real. Harry was drawn again out of his reverie by a smirk and a raised hand from Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy?" Prof. Ro asked exasperatedly. "Professor, you've forgotten to tell us about Shadow magic." "You don't get it, do you?!" Most of the class was surprised at her outburst, quiet as it was. "We're talking about Shadow, here. Shadow is the closest Element to pure darkness. It's Hyrule's equivalent of You-Know- Who! Even the Gerudo don't spark the fear that the Shadow world does." Most of the class didn't understand. Prof. Ro just sighed. "Very well. If Shadow you wish to see, so be it. Move your desks back, clear a large space in the center of the room, then get behind your desks and stay there." The students complied. She took a deep breath and pointed her wand at the center of the space, her eyes closed in concentration. "Umbra mortis," she whispered, steely determination in her voice. For a moment, the room was completely silent. Then, the symbol from the violet circle up on the board glowed on the floor-a triangle with the tip pointing down, and three circles outside it, one at the center of each side of the triangle-and a piercing scream chilled them with terror. Harry was shocked to discover that he was paralyzed completely. He soon discovered why: a creature was writhing up out of the glowing symbol. It was sitting crouched on the symbol, its thin arms wrapped around its folded legs. The stench emanating from it was horrible, the unmistakable aroma of something that has been dead for quite some time. The thing must have sensed that the blood that pumped swiftly within them, because it unfolded itself, shrieking again, so that they could see it in its full grotesqueness. It began dragging its rotten body toward them, laboriously, as if walking through a viscous gel, or half solidified amber. Thick, round gold earrings clinked against its purple-blue head, drawing Harry's attention to its face-if it could still be called a face. There was a gaping hole in the lower half of the front surface of its head, and long teeth tipping about in its gums gave it a macabre sort of smile, and its dully-glowing red eyes glared at them hungrily. It dragged itself over to the Slytherin girl who had been in the room just before he, Ron and Hermione had entered. She was glaring at it defiantly as if she knew exactly what it was and exactly what was keeping it from attacking her. Prof. Ro gasped and managed to croak out 'Finite... Incantatem...'. The creature vanished and Prof. Ro collapsed in her chair, breathing heavily. The bell came not a moment too soon. The students filed quietly out of the classroom, all shaken by the experience of the Shadow monster. Harry told Ron and Hermione to go ahead, then made his way up to Prof. Ro's desk. She was sitting up, but she still looked a little drained. She blinked and shook her head, as if shaking away some unseen demons, then looked up at him. "Can I help you, Mr. Potter?" she asked calmly. Harry mentally kicked himself for bothering her after what had just happened. "Professor, I was wondering, why did you wait ten minutes before trying to call the roll?" Prof. Ro smiled. "I wanted to observe your behavior, group dynamics when you didn't know a teacher was watching. Actually, I'm surprised no one suspected me before that." "Oh." Harry didn't know quite what else to say. It was a little embarrassing. "Oh well. Run along, Mr. Potter. I'm sure Snape'll be thrilled to have you waltz in ten minutes late." Harry rather agreed with her.  
  
The rest of the day was about as normal as Hogwarts gets. The Sixth-year Slytherins and Gryffindors had Double Potions, Neville Longbottom blew up another cauldron, Malfoy and Minions clashed with Potter and Associates, and Snape was generally bad-tempered. Yes, quite normal indeed. Saturday came quite normally as well. It was the little after-breakfast walk that was the problem. Harry--for no good reason at all, save to be somewhere besides the Gryffindor common room or the Library-had decided to take a walk after breakfast. It was a lovely walk, springtime being what it was, and the flowers were all anxious to affect his judgement with their intoxicating fragrances. Meandering off to the Quidditch field in the interest of seeing the experimental Snitch everyone was talking about, Harry tried hard to ignore the histrionic blooms. While pleased to have arrived at the Quidditch pitch, he was not so pleased to have literally bumped into the broom shed. He sighed moved toward the shed, intending to enter it.. Unfortunately, he was unable to do this, as he was suddenly ambushed by a mad Quaffle and the aforementioned, experimental Snitch. Harry was confused. Since when did the snitch and the Quaffle attack people? 'Probably since Snape or Malfoy got to it,' Harry thought darkly. Severus Snape Jr. was the Potions Master's son, and the attitude towards Gryffindors seemed to be hereditary. He was the mastermind behind most of the Slytherin pranks, and he and Harry had rubbed each other the wrong way ever since he transferred the year before. Harry didn't intend to take this lying down. Mounting his broom, Harry pursued the Snitch, hopefully to learn who had released it... 


	2. A Little Confusion

Edited-Thank you, O Beta Reading one, if you ever read this! Good luck with finals!  
  
Un-original Disclaimer: Hey, guess what! What? I don't own it. Don't own what? Anything 'cept Holly, Samantha, Eloise, and generic villagers. Avienne belongs to a friend of mine, as does Severus Jr. and I'm just borrowing those two from her. All the other stuff is J. K. Rowling's. Zelda stuff belongs to Nintendo.  
  
The figure was illuminated from behind by the morning sun, obscuring her identity, mostly. She turned her head and her hair swung outward, as if it was almost weightless. That eerie feeling of familiarity began creeping up through his chest again. His jaw dropped when he figured out why. It was the girl Defense Against the Dark Arts. He finally recognized her. She'd gone to Hogwarts through third year, then left for some unknown reason. He lifted off and sped toward her, temper rising as a result of the mad Quaffle. "I'm surprised you dragged your lazy arse out of bed this early, Potter. Regularly being out after curfew must be devastating to your beauty sleep!" Avienne Snape hovered in place, bewitched Quaffle under her arm. She was one of a pair of twins; her brother Severus Jr. looked more like her father, and Avienne herself looked more like her mother. Both, however, had inherited their father's attitude and general opinion of Gryffindors. Avienne generally avoided Harry and Cohorts, as she called them, but when they did meet, they were naturally hostile to each other. "Drop the Quaffle, Avienne." "I don't think so. I rather like this one." "Yes, perfect size and shape, nice color, and it attacks Gryffindors on command. What will you think of next?" Harry countered. "It doesn't attack all Gryffindors... just the ones it finds particularly annoying." "What an honor to be so hated by a Quaffle." "So are we trading insults all day, or do you actually want to go one-on- one, Potter." Harry looked at her incredulously, as she hovered, lit from behind by the rapidly rising sun. For a millisecond, the silhouette of Avienne's broom appeared to morph into that of a dragon, but it was gone like the fleeting shadow of another world. Harry shook it off and chased after Avienne, who had moved out of alignment with the now rapidly expanding sun. Avienne made for the goalposts on the one side; Harry prepared to block her shot. Avienne threw the Quaffle-but Harry never got the chance to block it. The sun was gone now, in its place was an enormous red moon. The moon glowed malevolently, as if admonishing Harry for existing in the first place. Had he been conscious, Harry would have noticed there was no Quaffle to block, only the endless sea far below him.  
  
"I suppose it's futile to think boys these days have any common sense, but really. Unbelievable!" Harry came to slowly, like surfacing after a particularly deep dive. He remembered falling, but from the altitude he fell, he should by all logic have been dead. "I supposed you'd be little disoriented coming around but this is ridiculous. ::sigh:: Well, that'll teach you to fly more than a quarter- mile offshore. Honestly, you children are reckless!" Harry slowly opened his eyes and the world blurred into view. Apparently the Hospital Wing had undergone some remodeling. ...And so had Madame Pomfrey. She was a good deal taller than he remembered, and her hair was a good foot-and-a-half, two feet longer. Different color, too. She'd dyed it a medium brown color, like a particularly dark cup of tea, and her eyes were now a bluish-silver. He hadn't remembered her being quite so slim either. "Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," she said, her arms crossed over her chest sternly. "Perhaps you'd like to explain what possessed you to go flying four miles offshore?" "Er, Madam Pomfrey, I-I'm really not sure-" "How he could have gotten lost like that. They were on their way to the Harbor when the storm came. Ron and I only just found them when the wind started," said a petite girl in the doorway. The woman interrogating Harry turned in the chair upon which she was sitting next to his bed and looked over at the girl, who looked like she'd just come out of the rinse cycle of someone's laundry. Her hair was only slightly lighter than the woman's hair and would have been bushy if not for all the rainwater to which it was currently playing host. "Miss Granger, I would have thought you'd have more sense than to go wandering about in this kind of a squall." "I came to check on Harry, ma'am." "Very well, but you'd better dry off a bit first. Mrs. Weasley doesn't like people tracking mud all over her house." The girl smiled and ran off to hang up her coat. The woman turned to Harry. "You're lucky to have such loyal friends, but do try not to get yourselves in so much trouble next time." She grabbed what appeared to be a black medical bag and left the room, closing the door behind her. Harry had no sooner relaxed against his pillow than another person-a boy this time, with familiar flaming red hair-rushed in, nearly sending the door slamming against the wall. "Hi, Harry! Mum told me you woke up. You alright?" "Yeah... hey, Ron, what was she talking about, 'this kind of a squall'?" Ron looked distinctly puzzled. "They're the same storms that come through every fall, Harry. They took out half the docks last year; I'm surprised you don't remember. How high did you fall from anyway?" "About the height of the shortest hoop. I was out at the pitch, hoping to practice a bit before breakfast." Ron looked at Harry strangely. "How'd I survive that fall, anyway?" "No idea. You sure you didn't hit your head or something?" "No, Madam Pomfrey said I was over water when I fell." "Madam Pomfrey? Lady Samantha said you were confused, but this is crazy. Madam Pomfrey died last spring." Now it was Harry's turn to look confused.  
  
Hmm, who is she? And how come no one seems to have any idea what Harry is talking about? Well, you'll find out, won't you? ^_~ hehe. R&R, like always. Ah, the imminent end of school, such relief I have never felt... Love and cheesecake~ ~Margot 


	3. Who Ever Heard of Common Sense?

Un-original Disclaimer: Hey, guess what! What? I don't own it. Don't own what? Anything 'cept Holly, Samantha, Eloise, Riley and generic villagers. Avienne belongs to a friend of mine, as does Severus Jr. and I'm just borrowing those two from her. All the other stuff is J. K. Rowling's. Oh, and the crazy mixed up world they're in is mostly mine. Zelda stuff belongs to Nintendo.  
  
Ok, maybe it wasn't so clear last chapter, but Harry's not at the hospital wing. He's at the Weasleys' house. You'll see how it works.  
  
'Harry, why don't we go into town? Going into town should help you remember, and besides, the rain's stopped, so the roads shouldn't be too muddy...' They wished. The dearly departed storm had other ideas. Hermione had fixed supports like metal stilts to the bottoms of their shoes, but rainwater was still threatening to seep through. "The roads aren't too muddy, are they, Hermione?" Ron said, nearly growling. "It was worse last year," Hermione returned. Harry was beginning to wonder about these storms everyone kept talking about. From what had been said, he could piece together that they comprised large amounts of rain, winds that stopped the activity of civilization in general, and flooding that brought the name 'Noah' to mind. But really, if they came every season, what was the big deal? "Were the storms really so bad last year?" he asked cautiously. "Were they bad?!" replied Ron. "They were worse than bad. Three months of rain and gales and half the dock wrecked?! That's a bit more than bad." "No one can go out during the squalling season," Hermione explained as they plodded their way toward what Harry supposed was the town proper. "The rain, the wind, the flooding. You'd be blown away, washed away or drowned." "What happens when the storms clear?" They walked in silence for a few moments before Hermione sighed slowly and began, "...We come out of our houses and try to rebuild everything we've lost." Harry didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't even begin to understand. The only thing he could figure out was that he was definitely NOT at Hogwarts, and that, whatever these storms were, they significantly disrupted the locals' lives. Sensing Harry's mood, Hermione smiled and changed the subject. "You'll really like the town, Harry. It's the liveliest place around for miles..."  
  
Harry stared around in amazement. Hermione hadn't been lying about the liveliness of the town. There were people everywhere, of all kinds. It was... unbelievable. Harry would have stood there all afternoon had Ron and Hermione not snapped him out of it to follow them through the shopping district. The little shops selling armor and medicine and herbs and imports quickly caught his attention again as well, and it took a few minutes before Ron and Hermione could engage him in conversation again. "The port cities are always the liveliest in the area. Everything that goes to the villages has to go through here first," Ron explained. "Wow... Where are the docks, anyway?" "Past this district, remember? When half the old harbor was wiped out, they moved it over by the shopping district," Ron reminded him. "Right. Sorry," Harry mumbled as they made their way through the gates to the harbor. "Don't worry, you'll have your memory back soon enough. And if it doesn't start getting better on its own, I'm sure Lady Samantha will know what to do," Hermione said comfortingly. Harry sighed quietly. The seagulls and the workers and sailors trying to get the harbor working again comfortably filled the small silence. Ron walked ahead a bit, and stopped, looking at one of the large ships farther down. He squinted a bit, trying to see it better. It was a rich reddish-brown color, made from the flesh of the petriwood trees that comprised the majority of the local forests. The sails appeared normal as well, they looked about as worn as any of the other ships' sails. The thing that had caught Ron's attention was the statue on the forward bow. Where most of the ships had a traditional, benevolent-looking sea-maiden, the last ship proudly displayed a stone wolf, its head turned ninety degrees to the right so that it was looking into the boats trajectory. The bronze lettering on the side was impossible to read from here, but Ron was pretty sure what those letters spelled out. "Oi, Harry, I think the Shadow Wolf is in!" he called over the din of the sailors, merchants and others whose business was here. "Let's go check it out!" Hermione squinted over at the last ship, and Ron took off at a run toward the last ship. "We should follow him. Especially if it really is the Shadow Wolf," Hermione said, a little note of excitement in her voice. Harry hid his puzzlement and dashed off after Hermione. Harry gazed in awe up at the ship, confirmed to be the Shadow Wolf by the bronze lettering on the side. The sails rippled softly in the afternoon breeze as tiny crewmen climbed through the rigging making sure everything was in order. A woman on deck shouted orders to sailors unloading crates while conversing exasperatedly with the harbormaster. "Another storm is less than 24 hours from here, and this is the closest harbor for four days, not to mention we have cargo marked for delivery to this port. I don't suppose the Commerce Guild would be too pleased to hear you've refused to unload their shipment," the woman said coolly. "I've heard another curious rumor. The captain of the Gryffindor owled this morning saying his first mate sighted the Chinese Fireball this morning. Apparently, it was tailing your position." "I knew you were thick, but I didn't know you were that thick. The Chinese Fireball is a legend told to frighten the gullible." "Maybe, but your captain has a knack for attracting trouble. I'd be surprised if it didn't come this time in the form of some plague or pestilence or trade dispute. I'm serious, your captain has become an ill omen around here." "Say what you want, we're still unloading this cargo and waiting out the storm here." The harbormaster sighed, muttered under his breath and marched off to talk with the Commerce Guild representatives. Ron noticed and waved to the woman, whose exasperation faded for a bit, and she waved them over. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, what are you doing here?" she asked. "We were in town and we spotted the Shadow Wolf, so we came over to say hello," Ron explained. "Good afternoon, Ms. Figg," Hermione greeted politely. Ms. Figg smiled. "I suppose you'll want to see the captain then. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you, too." Ms. Figg turned and motioned for the three to follow her through the door to a room at the back of the ship. The room itself was like the captain's room from Peter Pan, only there were what appeared to be joke paraphernalia scattered among the books, maps and scrolls on the bookshelves. In addition, a large crimson pillow big enough for a bear to lie on was tucked as inconspicuously as possible in the corner. "Just wait here. I'll go find the captain." Harry took this chance to get a few things straight. "Ron, who's that woman and how do we know her?" "She's Arabella Figg, the first mate of the Shadow Wolf, and we've known her since this ship first started coming here three years ago." "We've known her that long?" "Yeah, and the captain too." "The captain?" "Don't tell me you've forgotten him, too?" Harry nodded sheepishly. "Don't worry, you'll meet him soon. He doesn't purposefully keep people waiting." "That's good, I hope." "Don't worry, I'm sure you two will get along fine." Harry sighed and leaned back on the chair. A large black dog-the captain's, Harry supposed- shifted the large crimson pillow back into the corner and walked over to the desk. Harry glanced over at the huge pillow, then back at the desk and was no small bit surprised to see a man standing where the dog had been. He was tall, with dark blue eyes and black hair that was tied in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was wearing a crimson vest over his loose white linen shirt and his dark brown trousers were tucked neatly into his shiny black boots. "...Sirius?!" he exclaimed. "Hi, Harry, Ron, Hermione. Good to see you all again. I hope the storm yesterday didn't cause too much damage." "Everyone and their houses are intact. We survived," Hermione replied. "At least someone has good news. Arabella says the harbormaster thinks I'm a bad omen," Sirius laughed. Harry smiled. No, this was definitely not the world he'd woke up in this morning. The way Sirius was laughing... his eyes were laughing too-the hauntedness that had marked him as a victim of Azkaban was noticeably absent. It was as if he had never been arrested at all. Yet it was sad at the same time. Something about all this was inexplicably wrong. "You should come; Mum's been talking about how much she misses having guests. Come on, Sirius, come back to town with us," Ron suggested, bringing Harry out of his reverie. "Alright, alright, I'll come!" Sirius finally conceded. Sirius turned to Harry as he had been suspiciously quiet the whole time. "...You okay, Harry?" Harry nodded. "I'm fine." "Really?" "Really, I'm fine." Sirius didn't seem to believe him, but dropped the subject anyway. "Well, we should get going then. Don't want to be late for dinner!"  
  
The walk back to the village was better than the walk to the city. The mud had dried up, but not yet turned to dust, and the sun was no longer directly overhead. Harry, Ron and Hermione were also eager to hear stories about thing Sirius had encountered since his last visit before the storm season. The Shadow Wolf was a cargo ship in the fleet belonging to Fawkes & Fawkes Shipping Co. and made semi-regular rounds among the Northern Star Islands and the mainland. Once or twice Sirius had been to the Western Islands, the land of legends, but he said it wasn't all that different from the Northern Star Islands, really, just West instead of North. Mrs. Weasley was, as expected, delighted that Sirius was back in town and visiting them. Bill and Charlie had just come back from hunting, and they had managed to catch an elk in the forest so Mrs. Weasley started it cooking, then joined everyone else over by the fireplace where there was much lobbying to hear a story. Every time Sirius came ashore, he had new stories about the places he'd been and the people he'd met. Sometimes they were just events that proved people had no common sense whatsoever, like the crates with the words "do not turn upside down" on the bottom. Or the time Arabella had walked into a tavern for dinner and noticed that the roasted chestnuts on the menu boasted a caveat: "Warning: contains nuts." Then there were tales of treasure he and his crew had found buried on islands or down on the bottom of the sea. His latest story was by far the best. "You remember they sent me to the Western Islands last summer?" he said. Everyone generally confirmed this. "Well, they sent me back, two weeks ago. That's the last place I went before coming here." The beginnings of a storm were brewing again outside, the soft rain just beginning to tap out its percussion on the roof. No one noticed, and Sirius continued his story. "One of the islands I visited last summer was on my itinerary so Arabella suggested we look around, see what's changed. So we wander around a bit, and eventually we find ourselves outside of town"-the twins, Fred and George, smirked-"and headed into the forest. Neither of us is scared of a little old forest, even if it is dark and spooky and rumored to swallow unwary travelers, so we keep going"-the twins stifled snickers, and Ginny threw them a dirty look-"until we find this clearing that looks like someone just made camp in it and left everything a mess. So we go poking through the tents and we find this piece of parchment that looks like someone's attempt at a map. Well, it turns out it is a map-a treasure map- so we take it back to the ship with us and once we unload our cargo here, we're going to find the treasure." "You found a real, live treasure map?" Harry asked incredulously. "Yeah, but it's written in some unusual characters, so we can't read it," Sirius said sheepishly. "Then how do you know it's a treasure map? How do you know it won't just direct you to the nearest outhouse?" Ron responded. The door opened to admit a very wet man obviously returning from an important journey. Harry squinted a little, trying to see who it was, but his voice was identifiable as soon as he opened his mouth to answer Ron's question. Mr. Weasley took a deep breath and began, "Because there's an extremely disgruntled-looking young lady outside, demanding to see Captain Black, and she's definitely not Arabella Figg." 


End file.
